Dark and bleak
by Sopo
Summary: Were everything was dark and bleak after the writhing pain, it was all vivid and clear. One thing I know for certain, is that I am no longer normal.


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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words, Alice Cullen belongs to another!

Enjoy!

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It was so dark. So dark, and so cold. But my body was on fire, it burned so badly. I was screaming and no one was answering me. Other people were screaming too. There was always someone screaming. Oh, my body burned so badly. I felt like I was being continuously scolded, like they stuck a hot brand into my skin. Into my blood and let the fire pass through my body with each beat of my heart. Breathing hurt, moving hurt. I tried not to move. I was curled up in a little ball in the dirty corner of my prison. That's what it was right? A prison. I kept on getting flashes, images, sometimes moving. Sometimes not. I saw a man with normal features. He scared me. I remember that. Another man, his face is blurry. He told me he was going to protect me. Make sure no one can hurt me. Why did he lie? I'm hurting right now, everything hurts. He never came back, he left me here. Alone, and in the dark. So alone. So cold. I'm still burning.  
"AAAH" I scream, and someone in the next room screams too. More screaming, not all of it mine. Is everyone going through the same pain? I'm not the only one? I don't remember much, hardly anything at all. I only remember dark. There's still dark. Always dark. No one ever comes. Except the man who wanted to save me. He didn't save me. He lied. I sink into my mind, and try to forget. I want to forget.

The burnings slowly going away, but my hearts slowing down too. Is it supposed to do that? Does that mean I'm dying? I can die. Dying is fine, it doesn't matter really. It's ok. Ill be fine. It stopped, my heart stopped. But…I'm still alive. I'm alive? You need your heart to live right? Someone told me…I don't remember. But I'm alive. I open my eyes, at least there's no burning anymore. I can see, yes I can see. It's dark, but I can see as if there's light. There's something wrong here. Something not right. I'm not breathing, I haven't breathed. I take a big breath. The feeling is odd, and unpleasant. It's as if it can taste the smell around me. The smell is horrible, like sweat and urine and grime. I close my mouth and try not to breathe again. I don't need to. It is an odd feeling, but I find no discomfort. I feel solid, but very fragile. I know quite well of this feeling, I remember vaguely myself curled into a ball against this grimy walls. Clutching my head in my hands. I look at my hands now, for they are so very tiny. And white! How pale I am! Even in the dark it seems as if I glow, an peculiar and unnatural glow. Of a sudden something flashes in my mind. Many things and I recall as before that this happened often. Images would appear and dissipate as would the days in my prison. For that's what the stony walls were.

With that thought another comes to mind, and a burning feeling creeps in my throat. I claw at my neck, wishing the feeling to go. I need something for it to appease itself and I find myself smelling the air again. This time I look past the putrid smells, instead directing my attention to one. A sound accompanies it as well. A constant beating, a rushing flow, and I find myself wanting to find that sound. It's the only thought on my mind. My body reacts naturally, instinctively and I crouch down on my legs. I feel my lips curl back behind my teeth, a growl erupting from the back of my throat. Starting low and feral and in another part of my mind I was fascinated with the sound, and scared as well. But those thoughts were minimal and unimportant compared to the craving I was feeling. The burning, the parched unease that I wanted to go away. I lunge into the wall I front of me, it crumbles with ease. As if it were paper. I am moving incredibly fast, this much I register. I collide with someone, who I have no idea. My mouth widens and my teeth pierce flesh. My tongue is greeted with a delicious flavor and I feel the burning is my throat lessens a bit. But only a bit. The fire is still there and after I finished this body I moved to the next. I recognized myself as a rabid animal, for rabid I was.

The rest of the night was a blurring haze, I remember distinctly rancid smells of all sorts, bizarre sounds such as the movement of an insect, and my sight seemed to stretch beyond. For a while my life consisted of either hiding or appeasing that burning. I accepted the fact that I was strong, abnormally so. That my mind could hold many thoughts, most of which only consisted of my hunger for blood. I didn't know if this was normal, my other life was nothing but those stony walls. I knew of nothing else, it didn't bother me until now. And once again, as if a light remembering of my former prisons another image flashes through my head. This time of a man, but not like the man I very vaguely remember. This time his hair was a light blonde. It curled gently, a vivid contrast to his red eyes, eyes that looked very menacingly. Oddly enough I was not afraid of this man, despite the scars that lined his face and neck. He was very beautiful and in the vision I saw myself next to him, I almost laughed then. He all but towered over my slight figure. It was different seeing myself through my own eyes, I had yet to see my reflection and I had already come to terms with the pale parlor of my skin. Strangely enough this blonde man had skin just as light as mine. Perhaps we were of the same kind. Perhaps he was in a prison as well and become as ravenous as I seem to be. He looked to be very strong. I felt very compelled to go to him. And so I did. I may not remember much but the dark and bleakness that which was my prison. I remember intensely the taste of blood, something I'm sure will never be forgotten. I remember the sounds as I awoke, the fetid smells, my strength. Those are things I now carry within my vast mind. Nothing to tell me of my former life, nothing except my name. For I was Mary Alice Brandon.

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**I hope you enjoyed that, I certainly enjoyed writing it at 2:30 at night. You must have a certain mood to write in Alice fashion i find. And of course, this being her earlier years we do not yet see her shopiholic tendancies and almost bussing nature. Her erractic compulsory? Well she did jump through a wall. This is just how I thought she awoke, seeing as that is a mystery I decided to share my idea with you. Review if you liked it, review if you have questions. Or whatever! **


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